Marooned
by Loopstagirl
Summary: What on earth was he supposed to do on an island in the middle of a lake until Albion needed him again? Arthur had never been the most patient of people. Spoilers for 5x13.


**Disclaimer: I own nothing, all rights belong to their respective owners.**

**Well, here we are, my final missing scene from series 5. Not quite sure if this follows the same pattern as the others, but I actually couldn't stand doing anything sad. Thank you to all of those who have read the others, that means a lot to me. Slight spoilers for 5x13 I suppose. Enjoy!**

Arthur was sure that up until now, there had been a soothing rocking sensation that was somehow bringing him back to alertness. But now that he was thinking about it, he knew that he wasn't moving at all. It was almost like he had stopped, and it was only then that he began to notice just how uncomfortable he was. Opening his eyes was just too much effort right now, so Arthur began to let his body search to find out what on earth it was that he was lying on.

The first thing he allowed to move was his hand. He could feel that it had been clasped with the other over his chest, and that in itself gave Arthur an uncomfortable feeling. He never slept like that, it was the posture that they tended to lay the dead to rest in. He couldn't remember much of what had just happened, the only thing playing on his mind right now was the previous rocking sensation and now the fact that he was uncomfortable. Unfolding his hands, Arthur let out a wince as one simply fell straight off his chest and crashed into something wooden.

"Ow."

Well at least that showed him that his voice worked. Bringing his hand back to his chest, Arthur rubbed it and instead decided to let his feet move. He had barely stretched out at all when they too collided with something with a solid thunk. Now completely confused, Arthur knew that he was going to have to open his eyes. As he did so, he found himself dazzled by the bright sunlight that immediately caused him to scrunch them shut again. So opening his eyes whilst lying on his back was a bad idea as well.

Huffing a long sigh, Arthur sat up, shielded his eyes with his hand and opened them again. This time, they were given the chance to adjust and the king blinked in surprise.

Why the hell was he sitting in a boat?

Why was said boat resting on the shores of an island he didn't yet recognise?

And why was the end of his cloak on fire?

Yelping, (not that he would ever admit that), Arthur quickly stamped it out, jumped out of the boat and promptly fell over. It seemed that he had been lying down for far longer than he thought, for everything seemed to be heavy and lethargic. Maybe he had fallen asleep and Merlin, the clumsy idiot that he was, hadn't held onto the boat for long enough. But that didn't explain why he was in a boat in the first place, or why the end of his cloak was on fire.

"Sire?"

It also didn't explain that voice.

Sitting up and spitting out a mouthful of sand, Arthur felt an old flash of anger shooting through him. It didn't matter that he had seen this man die twice already, he had thrown himself at Lancelot before he had even realised that he could barely move. Sure enough, rather than bowling him over as had been Arthur's intention, he instead simply crashed into him and sent them both to the floor in a tangle of limbs. Arthur knew that he should move and show his traitor of a knight what happened when he went behind the king's back, but that involved energy.

Something Arthur was lacking spectacularly right now.

He knew that he should also get up. Remaining sprawled over Lancelot was not exactly the best way to regain his dignity either. But again, that involved the slight drawback of Arthur not feeling like he had any energy. Luckily, Lancelot seemed to know how he was feeling and grabbed Arthur by the shoulders, pushing him upright. Arthur immediately swung for him, but Lancelot held him back with ease.

"Before you try and kill me, look around. That's not possible right now."

Arthur blinked in confusion, sagging slightly as he did glance around.

"Where are we?"

"The locals call it Albion." Lancelot responded with a shrug, looking far too relaxed about the whole thing considering an uncomfortable lump was forming in Arthur's stomach.

"I'm dead?"

"Well, Merlin doesn't tend to send alive people here. Why else do you think that the end of your cloak was on fire?"

"Merlin sent me here? And I'm dead?"

"He sent me here after I had died for the second time. Oh, and before you say anything, that wasn't me. Well, it was me…Morgana brought me back, I was her slave type thing…"

"Not needing that image thanks…"

"And she wanted to get rid of Gwen, so I had to do it. So don't try and kill me because one, we're already dead, and two, it was completely not my fault. Your uncle is a creep, by the way."

"My uncle is dead. Wait, I'm dead?" Lancelot grimaced in sympathy, laying a hand on Arthur's shoulder.

"Yes, My Lord, I think we have established that fact. I'm afraid you are dead. In the other world at least. But here, we seem to just keep going on forever. It's peaceful, I think you will like it."

Lancelot took one look at Arthur's scowl and grimaced.

"Or not. Where are you going?"

"Home."

"Arthur, you're dead."

"Don't care." Not waiting for any explanation, Arthur began wading back into the water. He could still see the shore, surely Merlin would still be there? All Arthur had to do was swim back. Throwing himself into the water, he began to swim away from the island, realising too late that swimming in armour was a bad idea. It dragged him under as soon as the water was deep enough, and Arthur believed that he was dead just for a wild moment long enough to wonder whether he could do again or not.

Just as he thought that he would drown, Arthur sat up and spat out a mouthful of sand, Lancelot rubbing his back soothingly.

"It doesn't work, Arthur. This is our home now, you could just accept that. It's not so bad, you get used to it once you come to terms with the fact that you are dead."

"I'm not accepting that, I'm the King. I don't have to be dead if I don't want to be."

"You're kind of not a king here… There's a nasty one Sidhe one whose temper is worse than a troll's, but even he listened to…"

"I don't care. I'm going home."

So saying, Arthur stood up and walked straight back into the water again.

As he spat sand out of his mouth for the fifth time, Arthur realised two things. One, there would be no swimming away from the island. And two, he really hated the taste of sand.

Jumping to his feet, Arthur ignored Lancelot's outstretched hand. The man looked slightly exasperated by his king, but pulled himself upright.

"Now where are you going?"

"There must be a way off on the other side." Beginning to march along the beach, Arthur fidgeted and squirmed as he tried to get sand out of his armour.

"You could take it off, Sire, there is no threat here."

"I'll be the judge of that," Arthur responded tartly, not slowing down at all as he continued to move. Lancelot simply rolled his eyes and ran to catch up. Dressed in just lose breeches and a comfortable shirt compared to Arthur's armour, he had no trouble at all falling in step with the man.

"Where's your armour? Where's the clothes that you died in?"

"Black wasn't really my colour, so I changed."

"You changed? Just like that?"

"This isn't your world any more, Arthur, things are different."

"I don't care." Arthur cast Lancelot's clothes another filthy look before continuing to stalk onwards. Lancelot just sighed, wondering how long it was going to take Arthur to work it out this time.

Three hours later, when they passed the boat for the seventh time, Arthur seemed to realise that the island was completely in the centre of the lake and therefore he was just stuck. Sitting down miserably on the sand, he proceeded to flick a few grains at Lancelot.

"This is all your fault."

"Mine? How?"

"I don't know but it's not my fault."

"Arthur…" Before the noble knight could continue, Arthur stood up. Very slowly, he began to back away from the water's edge, his eyes wide.

"What…" He pointed dramatically at something in the sand by his feet. "is that?"

"Oh, that's a Sidhe. This little one must have somehow fallen out of the water."

"You don't fall _out_ of water, Lancelot. Don't go near it, don't touch it! See, it's turning more of a normal colour now rather than blue…"

"They're supposed to be blue." Gently, Lancelot scooped the baby Sidhe into his hands and walked down to the water's edge. If he was aware that Arthur was following him down, he didn't say anything about it. Gingerly, he slid the magical creature back into the water. The water immediately swirled and a larger Sidhe rose from the waves. Lancelot bowed his head.

"Sire."

The blue creature looked at him steadily, until he attention was drawn to Arthur.

"You have a newcomer, human."

"Arthur Pendragon, this is the high King of the Sidhe…"

"I'm the only king here." Arthur folded his arms across his chest and looked nothing more than a petulant child as he pouted. The Sidhe immediately bristled, a staff appearing in his hands.

"Many a time we've tried to control you…"

"Well, you clearly failed."

"Only because you have a protection none do. Now, however, we will have you…"

"Hang on, you've got to give him time, My Lord, Arthur's only just…well, died. Let him adjust."

"He is ours." Before Arthur could say anything, he felt himself being moved towards the water. He yelled out and struggled, but it was an invisible force. For the first time ever, Arthur found himself wishing for Merlin. What he got instead, however, was a small woman, her hair whipping around her face as she appeared out of nowhere, glaring at the Sidhe.

"You forget yourself, highness. It is only through my protection that you have kept your lands. You leave the human to me and be gone." Arthur had uttered many dismissals in his life, but he didn't think he had ever heard one that powerful. The force and the Sidhe vanished and Arthur stumbled, ending up kneeling back in the water. The woman approached him with a kindly smile, drawing him to his feet.

"Welcome, Arthur. My name is Freya. Merlin talks about you all the time whenever he comes to visit me. I can't wait to show you around. And just for the record," she leant forward and kissed his cheek. "I don't blame you. Eventually you'll remember what for and who I am, just know that I know you were doing what you needed to do."

Arthur found himself glancing wildly at Lancelot, who had a small smile on his face.

"Who are you?"

"I am the Lady of the Lake. And this is my domain."

MMM

_500 years later._

"Oh come on, you are not still sulking about that."

"I was his best friend."

"And you still are, or have you not noticed him moping around the edge of the lake. He never did that after I died."

"He never moped for me either, he just came back for chats." Both Arthur and Lancelot stared at Freya in surprise as she simply shrugged, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and picking up another card. "Your turn."

"But I still can't believe you found out before I did…."

"He told you, I just figured it out. A blue glowing lance slightly gives away that magic is being used." Lancelot put down his card, grinned as Freya chewed her lip in concern as she examined her hand before giving Arthur a kick.

"Stop sulking, it's your go."

"He still trusted you..."

"What was he supposed to do, wipe my mind?"

"Come on, boys, it doesn't matter anymore."

"Well, it's alright for you, he already knew that you wouldn't turn him in. Not like you could, and he was freeing you from a cage."

"He still could have told me before I was dying."

"_Arthur…_"

"What? I wasn't going to chop his head off!"

"That's easy for you to say, you've been dead five hundred years. Now will you just please hurry up and put a card down?" Arthur rolled his eyes and put one down, causing Lancelot to swallow and go pale as Freya laughed.

"I think that is the shirt off then?" Arthur didn't know whose idea it was to use clothes instead of money in their gambling, but there was only so much one could do on an island whilst waiting to be sent back.

"Does this mean you've stopped sulking over Merlin not telling you about his magic?"

"It means that I still can't believe he told Freya straight away and didn't tell me. I was his master."

"You are so shallow." Lancelot pulled off his shirt and chucked it at Arthur. The once-king looked towards Freya and winked. As she laughed, Arthur jumped to his feet, speeding towards the water with the shirt.

"Don't you dare! Arthur Pendragon, get back here!"

"Might be five hundred years, I'm still your king."

"And I'm still the mistress of this island, you lose, Lance." Arthur didn't even need to reach the water until a spurt of it rose up, drenching Lancelot's shirt. Freya seemed to almost shimmer for a moment as she controlled the water and Lancelot yelped as he realised that there was nothing he could do in order to stop it from happening.

"I'm going to get you back for that, Pendragon."

"Bring it on!"

An hour later, and Arthur shut his eyes as he had to pull off his last piece of clothing.

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all?

MMM

_Another 500 hundred years later._

"But I'm bo-ored. Why can't I go back?"

"Because Albion doesn't yet need you, Arthur. Now, concentrate and I'll teach you how to manipulate the water.

MMM

_A thousand years after that._

"Please, they need me. There is a damn war, I have to go back."

"They have Merlin."

"And he needs me, c'mon, Freya, let me go back."

"No. Lancelot, have you been annoying the Sidhe king again, he looked upset earlier."

"I didn't do anything, learnt that lesson a long time ago."

"Arthur?"

"Told you I was bored."

MMM

_500 hundred years later._

"Can I?"

"No."

MMM

_400 years later._

"Can-?"

"No.

MMM

_300 years later._

"Freya…"

"No."

MMM

_150 years later._

"Frey-a…"

"Stop dragging my name out like that, it's annoying. And no."

MMM

_The next day._

"Arthur?"

"Hmm?"

"It's time."

"Really? What's the emergency? What do they need me for?"

"Nothing."

"Huh?" Arthur still rose to his feet and followed Freya at her gesture, almost bouncing excitement. Now was the day, he finally got to back to the real world.

"Why am I going back if there is no emergency? You said that the time would come, and that I had to wait for it."

"I know." Freya took his hand, leading him down to the water's edge.

"But…"

"You're going before I create an emergency! You're driving me mad, Arthur. So I'm sending you back. Say hello to Merlin for me. Now, get off my island!"

Without so much as a goodbye, Freya shoved him in. Arthur fell head first, coughing and spluttering his way to the surface. He turned, fully intending to give the Lady of the Lake a piece of his mind about what would happen if she pushed him in again.

Only to turn and find himself looking into a pair of startled blue eyes.

Familiar eyes.

"Freya says hi?" Arthur muttered sheepishly, suddenly realising that he was soaking wet. But this wasn't the island, and even after all of this time, Merlin didn't seem to look any different.

"Prat."

Arthur grinned as Merlin rolled his eyes and hauled his once-king out of the water.

He was back.


End file.
